


The Ronin Universe- As Seen by a Gundam Pilot on the Street

by minkmix



Category: Gundam Wing, Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors, all the GW boys, all the Ronin boys, crossover - Fandom, heero and sai face off and thats just fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-05-27 08:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15020273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkmix/pseuds/minkmix
Summary: About this capture- It made sense in the later century.





	1. The Ronin Universe- As Seen by a Gundam Pilot on the Street- Let's Begin

**Author's Note:**

> _About this capture- It made sense in the later century._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ronin Warrior Universe & the Gundam Wing Universe collide. It's confusing and awkward for everyone. What exactly would happen if the GW doctors (that don't believe in Magic just Science) try to use mystical armor on one of their pilots? All POVs are from the GW's perspective, so even if you know nothing about RW, neither do they. Their assumptions and observations of the RW is pretty much why I wrote this back in the day. Cuz the Ronins are pretty weird.

The Ronin Universe- As Seen by a Gundam Pilot on the Street

part 1

 

Quatre smiled. "You know what Trowa? I don't think you fully realize the importance of Stalin's rhetoric to the people at the time. He truly was a visionary if not a philosopher."

Trowa nodded thoughtfully from across the table, absently watching the people pass by on the sidewalk. "Very true, however, there was a reason his statues were torn down. No rationale can last longer than the people will tolerate it."

Quatre considered this. "But, where would we be without rationalizations?"

Trowa waited for him to continue.

"Rationalizations are more important than," Quatre paused, leaning conspiratorially over the small table and lowering his voice so only Trowa could hear,"...sex."

Trowa’s eye brows went up in surprise.

Quatre, quite pleased with himself, tilted his head. "Have you ever gone a week without a rationalization?"

Trowa admitted defeat with a soft sigh, tipping back the rest of his drink. "You are acting very strange today Quatre. Is it New York?" He gave Quatre a small smile.

Quatre glanced towards the bustling street and sidewalk. They had both been to large cities before, and many enough to know that each city was not the same. New York was a living breathing entity, constant movement, constant filth, and absolutely no boredom. "I think it's like being in a life that's on fast forward." he paused, "I am glad you came with me Trowa."

Trowa shrugged. "You had already packed my bag before you asked."

Quatre let out a laugh before he could stop himself, loud enough for several other nearby patrons of the restaurant to glance around at them. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, bright blue eyes bright and smiling. "Sorry!" He leaned towards Trowa again. "It has been such a long time since we have been able to be alone-" Quatre turned his head swiftly towards the street. "Did ..did you hear something?" His eyes had assumed a far off look.

Trowa turned his gaze in the same direction. He had heard something. A bang? Or was it closer to a explosion?

"Maybe it was a car backfir-" Quatre’s voice was cut short by the abrupt crash of glass on the street just outside of the suddenly silent restaurant. People were running like streaks of colour past the wide street windows, their hands over there heads and faces, their shouts muted by the glass. The dying sun lent a glitter to the bits and pieces of glass which now trickled like magic dust from far above.

Trowa’s calm eyes lingered on the splintered panes of glass lying strewn on the pavement and car roofs, then moved back to Quatre across the table who was staring in shock. Another explosion sounded in the not so distance, barely discernible above the honking horns. The old chandelier above them shook, sending powdery streams of plaster floating down around them. There was an almost inaudible whine and then a click. The lights flickered bravely for a moment then went out. The darkened room was lit dimly by the windows facing the street.

"Trowa?" Quatre swallowed. "Maybe we ..um..should get out of here?"

Trowa put his napkin on the table and stood slowly, the rest of the patrons speaking in tense rising voices around them. "Oz." He grabbed Quatre’s hand, not even letting the boy stand up, and practically dragged him as he moved towards the front doorway.

"Trowa! Wait!" Quatre gasped stumbling behind. "Maybe we should go out the back..these places always have a 'back' ..right?"

They both looked at the rapidly filling street. People were running in every direction, some screaming, some shoving. A dark shadow , like a swift moving cloud , passed over the street. However, the shadow did not pass like a cloud, it stayed in place like premature twilight. A storm?

Quatre gasped as the light fell away. He glanced anxiously behind and up at Trowa who was also looking upwards as if, he too, could find the source of the darkness. Another silent explosion rocked the building making more plaster crack and fall. Trowa raised an arm over his head to block the falling pieces.

"Do you think Oz has launched an attack?" Quatre asked in confusion. "My intelligence hasn’t reported even a hint of Oz activity here!" People jostled past them onto the sidewalk which was swiftly going from bad to worse.

As it grew darker, Trowa realized dismally that the entire block was without power. "Mine either." Trowa said, his hand involuntarily slipping into his loose jacket to touch his gun. "Let’s go out the back."

Quatre pointed behind them. "No good." The restaurant had become more like a sequel on the street before them. People had begun to panic.

Trowa looked over the crowd and found them choking the entrance to the back alley. He turned back to the street. "Come on."

With that, they both plunged onto the panic-filled streets. Quatre followed, his wrist locked in Trowa’s grip. People shoved and pushed by them, hissing and cursing, a woman shrieked and began sobbing.

Trowa had expected to see several Leos bearing down on the crowds, but there was no hint of them through the chaotic noise. No gun fire or loud unmistakable hum of Leo engines. Trowa shook his head. There was something wrong about all of this.

Grasping at each other so they wouldn't be separated, the surging, shouting crowd pulled and shoved them around the crowded sidewalk and street. Rusty cars and dented cabs honked, islands in a river of wide eyed people.

Another tremor/explosion shook underneath their feet, almost knocking them to the ground. Trowa looked up and saw thin columns of black smoke rising from nearby skyscrapers. His eyes passed over a nearby bank building and paused. Lights. On the top of the Mutual Security building across the street.. there were...lights? Soft dim lights moved erratically near the edge of the building's roof.

Trowa paused.

Over the sound of the crowd he could somehow make out the sound of metal striking metal. A sharp metallic ring that seemed to come from up above. The lights? The lights glimmered and shifted, moving swiftly across the roof and then to Trowa’s surprise, seemed to leap in unison onto the next rooftop which was at least forty feet higher. He blinked, trying to make the strange image disappear. But they didn't. The lights went back and forth on the edge of the adjacent building.

Suddenly a dome of dark purplish light blossomed nightmarish on top of the building, obscuring the lights completely. The ground shook violently and a low rumbling sound began. Trowa watched in frozen amazement as the top of the building's rooftop began to disintegrate and fall in massive jagged pieces down into the street.

The lights? Are they doing this?

Still looking up, Trowa was startled when a flash of green light came from directly above the restaurant, only thirty feet above his head, and arced across the crowded street towards the rapidly deteriorating building, where the other lights had vanished. He thought he heard a voice...? .....the green light yelled something. Trowa was jolted back to the present, when a woman right behind them screamed something unintelligible, pointing up. For a moment, he thought the woman had seen the lights as well and he turned swiftly to look.

It wasn't the lights.

A satellite dish was cartwheeling down the side of the damaged building, shattering glass and rending steel as it went. The crowd surged in breathless panic and Trowa was shoved violently forward, his grasp on Quatre’s arm lost. "Quatre!" He watched Quatre become rapidly swallowed by the crowd. Quatre. But he was already swept away. Trowa lunged forward towards him, heedless of the elbows and offending stomping feet. The satellite dish crashed into some parked cars less than twenty feet away, showering the crowd with dust and glass. He was pushed and pulled like in the current of a savage river, a river that could scream, then he saw a familiar arm in a green sleeve failing under the edge of the surging crowd. Quatre was smashed against a dirty brick wall and pinned there. The crowd swelled and then suddenly lessened almost to a trickle.

Trowa allowed himself to flow with the stream until he was just before him, then used all his strength to plow through those who remained.

Quatre had an arm across his chest. "...I...I just got the breath knocked out of me..I'm..I'm.. ok...." He managed to cough out. 

Trowa looked at him an anxious moment, then looked in calm assessment around them. The crowd had drained off somehow. The cars which were stuck in the street were abandoned, their headlights gleaming bleakly through the dust and debris. The cars beneath the mangled satellite dish had begun to burn, filling the street with oily black smoke. The streets where becoming strangely empty. Only a few people flitted through the smoke and the muted beams of the headlights.

Trowa found his gaze drawn back up at the damaged roof of the Mutual Security building where the green light had alighted and could be vaguely seen. No ..he thought.. not light, it's a person.

"I think there's a person up there." he whispered. Trowa thought suddenly of the other lights he had seen. "I think there are people up on top of that bank."

Quatre glanced up, still trying to catch his breath. "H..huh?"

Trowa saw a dark purple light flicker like lightening through the smoke above and thought he knew what would follow. "Come on. We have to get out of here now."

Not even waiting for an answer, he grabbed Quatre's arm once again and ran in the opposite direction the crowd had been going, plunging through clouds of black smoke, heedless of what was on the other side. They ran in silent fear for a few blocks, Trowa casting glances behind them as they ran. Quatre, who had never fully gotten his breath back, struggled to keep up. Looking away from the street for only a moment to peer ahead in the gloom, Quatre stumbled on an unseen curb. Trowa skidded to a halt and swung around to help him up when a deafening crash boomed right behind them in the obscuring smoke, blowing rocks and grit, slamming the tall pilot down onto the street beside him.

Close. Trowa glanced up in the smoke and dust waiting for what would follow.

Quatre stood shakily. "What was that?!?" He too gazed into the billowing smoke behind them.

"It was the rest of that bank across the street." Trowa didn't look at him as he stood slowly. He could hear the metal clashing against metal again. "They're fighting."

"Fighting? Whose fighting?" Quatre asked breathlessly as they made their way through the treacherous streets, the dull glow of the headlights of abandoned cars shone like beacons for them to follow.

"I think I saw something." They ducked down an alley, not running but not exactly walking either. "There were lights right before the explosions."

Quatre looked at him anxiously. "Do you think Oz is using a satellite?" His voice sounded strange, as if he did not believe his own theory or expect it to be confirmed.

"No." Trowa murmured, his eyes set. "I don’t think so." They came out on the opposite side of the alleyway with still no sign of people. "Everyone is gone." Seeing the always busy streets of New York completely empty was disconcerting and unreal. He looked to Quatre, who had a streak of ash down one cheek and plaster in his blonde hair.

"The power must have gone out all over the city. What do we do now?"

With that, the headlights on the abandoned cars jammed in the street, flickered then simultaneously went out, leaving them in bleak darkness. Trowa removed his gun from it’s hidden holster. "I guess we'll find out."

 

* * *

"New York New York it’s a hell of a town..." Duo sang to himself as he went. It was better than the whole lot of nothing he had to listen to instead. He kept close to the silent buildings that towered over him, skirting through alley ways and sometimes through the buildings themselves. Trying very hard not to let his panic grow as each apartment or office or hallway he borrowed to trespass was found empty. He paused in a window, the fire escape an easy route to the next roof. The dinner table was set, the forks had pieces of food stuck on the end of them for crying out loud. But as with every other strangely vacated home or store, there didn’t seem to be any signs of struggle. Millions of people just don’t up and vanish.

Duo frown, absently chewing on the inside of his lip. "Do they?" Heero had said it was indicative of the weapons they were supposed to be securing. But that only made Duo sigh. Heero knew as much about this mission as he did. Which was practically nothing. He crossed the roof quickly and slid down the fire escape ladder down to the street. Secure weapons. What weapons? None of it made sense, Oz had never did anything this weird before. He had come across several fallen buildings and a wrecked subway train, but not one sign of a Leo. Whatever was causing the damage moved quickly and was scattered all over the city. Like rouge wrecking balls.

Multiple targets. Duo thought, glancing side to side to make sure his way was clear before he crossed the car choked street. Or multiple weapons. There was another strange thing. There wasn’t just an absence of people, there were no bodies either. If he couldn’t find one of these damn weapons how in the hell was he supposed to secure it?

Heero had been gone for a while. They had scattered in different directions when that car had come out of nowhere. A fucking car! He looked up, a confused expression plain on his face. How could a car fall from a building?!? Could it have been in a parking garage of something? It was like somebody had thrown it or- Duo shoved the thought away. No matter how the car had ended up crashing down into the street, he and Heero had been separated. It wasn’t worried, Heero could do more than take care of himself, but he wouldn’t have minded a little back up whenever he found what was ripping the famous city down like building blocks. Right before they scattered they had been talking about trying to cross over into New Jersey, so Duo hoped he would spot the other pilot on the way.

"That's no good." he murmured to himself. He had been working his way south to the 58th street bridge. Unfortunately, the raised highway which joined the road to the bridge itself was now nothing but rubble. With a sigh, he looked up at the thirty feet which separated him from the bridge, then longingly across the water where a strange fog was busily hiding the distant shore. The bluish fog swirled slowly just over the river's surface. Duo looked up into the sky uncertainly. It wasn't exactly night, but it wasn't daytime either. It was a gray colour, like early dawn or late evening. Time seemed meaningless, and he resisted the urge to check his watch. It had stopped around the time Heero and himself had entered the city. 2:16 pm today? Yesterday?

"I guess I'll have to double back." His voice sounded loud although he hadn't spoken above a whisper. Looking around in the deserted shadows made him feel as if he was the last person left on earth. The thought made him shiver as he carefully climbed down the crumbing debris. A noise. Jerking to a halt, his back stiffened, steadying himself on a broken slab of concrete. He turned slowly back to look up at the lip of the bridge far above. A shower of rocks trickled down from the crumbling edge. There's somebody up there.

Keeping his eyes on the edge of the bridge while backing away, he drew his gun. Duo reached the street, eyes still locked on the bridge. Reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the bridge's base, his gaze scoured the support towers of the suspension bridge. Looming above like immense blackened trees, the support pylons seemed to be able to hid anything. He searched the towers, knowing an army could be hiding in it's shadows, let alone a single-he felt his heart stop. A lone figure was standing high above on the closest pylon, barely discernible in the dreary dark. Or is it shedding light? Blue light? Duo found himself staring at it in frozen wonder. Was that one of the weapons? He was in plain sight on the empty street. Fuck.

Duo swung around and broke into a run, expecting at any moment to be struck from behind. He reached an alleyway between two apartment buildings. Breathing hard, he rounded a dumpster and skidded to a halt, slamming a clip into his gun. The figure was at the end of the alley, it's bluish glow more evident. It was holding some kind of bow and it was pointed straight at him, the notched arrow gleamed dully in the dismal light of the narrow alley. Duo squinted in the gloom and raised his gun in one swift motion. The figure was armored. It had a strange high and horned helmet. He tilted his head in confusion. Not like modern military armor but some kind of older armor. Duo looked it up and down. "And what exactly are you supposed to be?" Cyborg. Why didn’t it fire?

The figure shifted, slowly lowering the bow. He couldn't see the face of it in the shadows of the alley but he felt he was being studied. Duo swallowed, not as half as brave as he wished he could be. It must be some new cyborg prototype. A pretty freaking powerful cyborg prototype considering the damage he had seen. It was a strange moment as he slowly realized he was very out gunned. He squeezed the trigger anyway, letting one sharp muted ring of gunfire fill the silence. Right for the lower left chest where he knew most AI units were housed.

Duo watched his reinforced tip, armor piercing and not to mention titanium bullet meet and spark against the thing. It still didn’t move. He squeezed off three more. It slowly lowered it’s bow completely.

Duo went cold. He was supposed to secure this?

"Too good for my bullets huh?" he asked hoping to distract it, slowly backing away. "What are you waiting for, the Empire States building is still standing!"

It did have a bow and would probably just shoot him anyway but he wasn’t going to just sit there. A second before Duo made a lunge towards freedom, the figure spoke.

"Where the fuck do ya think you're goin'?"

Duo blinked. This was it, this was the end. But in the back of his frenzied mind, a thought drifted Was it just me or did that cyborg sound like it was from the lower east side?.. Instead of thinking about it, he swung around and headed towards the street. He ran half a block before he dared to hope that he had left the thing behind. Turning his head to see if it was giving chase and-BANG- ran right into something. Duo skidded about three feet backwards ending up on his back. Oh god, did I just run into a telephone pole? He felt the back of his head where it had smacked the pavement, then looked to see what he hit.

Duo gasped.

"You should watch where ya goin'." the thing said with, Duo was positive, a certain amount of amusement.

The pilot sat up on the sidewalk, a hand still on the back of his head. "I will." It didn't even budge when I ran into it. How'd it get in front of me anyway?!

It was standing practically right over him, the meager light striking the face beneath the horned helmet. Duo’s eyes widened.

It looked as if it were around his age, maybe older, but not by much. It didn't look particularly terrifying. It looked annoyed. Hardly the expression Duo had ever imagined a prototype cyborg killer to wear, but hey, he had never actually seen one, especially one in old Samurai armor. That's it! That armor looks like an old Samurai getup! It shocked him out of his reverie by speaking.

"What d' you think you're doin'?" It asked carefully. "The Warlawds are all over the place, you can't just run where eva' you want!"

Duo stared at him. If this thing isn't from the east side just paint me orange and call me Judy.

As it leaned down to grab at Duo’s arm, Duo quickly withdrew his gun and leveled it evenly in it’s face. "I don’t think so freak." Duo slowly stood and it watched him carefully, it’s dark blue gaze flickering from the gun to him. Was it scared now? "Paws off."

The cyborg sighed. It studied Duo for moment, a smirk slowly spreading across it’s face. The giant bow was swung around it’s back where it neatly folded itself and offered out empty hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt you, see?"

"You’ve got that right cupid." Duo assumed what he hoped would be a construed as a threatening stance and narrowed his eyes at it defiantly. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all. One secured weapon coming up. "You are coming with me. How are you deactivated?"

The thing paused. "Deactivated?"

"Turned off, unplugged, shut down, offline, deactivated."

The thing looked confused. You've got it all wrong! Lemme explain, we've gotta get out-"

Duo shook his head, "I asked you a question."

It looked slightly exasperated, and stepped forward.

Duo opened fire.

Duo’s gun was designed by Doctor G. It could blast holes in brick walls. It might not have worked in the alley but at this short range nothing short of a mountain would be left standing. The thing stumbled back at close range as the bullets slammed into it’s chest. Duo smiled when it fell loudly onto the concrete, it’s armor casing clanging to the ground. "Deactivated yet?" Duo felt himself grin wider. What an odd cyborg. But Duo’s grin died. The freaky piece of shit cyborg was still running! What it take? A bomb?

It muttered something and stood up. It didn’t look confused anymore. It looked, well, pissed off. "Give me that!"

Duo was so shocked he let his smoking gun be ripped out of his hands.

"You’re gonna hurt somebody!" And before Duo’s eyes, it bent the barrel of his gun into a U and tossed it over it’s shoulder.

So much for that. "Okay okay." Duo braced himself. "Get it over with, just kill me." Game Over.

It seemed taken aback with this and the dark blue eyes got wide for a moment. "Kill you?" The cyborg titled it’s head to the side, the brow furrowed. "What made ya think I was gonna kill you?"

Duo motioned to the bow on it’s back with his chin. "What were you planning on doing with that? Just maim me?"

Some of the previous cyber smile returned, and Duo noticed an unchecked lock of hair had fallen into it’s eyes. Hair the a shade of blue just a little lighter than the armor casing. It waved an armored hand. "Nah, ya see, I thought everybody in the city had been taken.... when I saw you, I thought ya were a dynasty soldier."

The pilot blinked. "Dynasty soldier?" Duo found himself studying the eyes, they weren’t very cyborg like. They seemed very human. Besides what kind cyborg swore all the time? A soft clang came from behind him.

A voice. "Rowan?"

Duo swung around only to see another armored cyborg standing little more than several feet behind him, holding the biggest sword he had ever seen in his life. Chancing a glance back on the blue one, Duo saw it had broken into a relieved smile.

"Seiji! I thought I'd lost ya!" it said gesturing to nowhere in particular.

The massive sword whistled through the air as the one named Seiji expertly swung the weapon over it’s shoulder. "We've got to keep moving, Ryo said to meet him uptown." The forest green armor heaved as if it had been running but he wasn't close to being winded. The new cyborg turned it’s head slightly, as if noticing Duo for the first time. It stared at him for a moment, eyes so crystal blue and cold that Duo had no doubt of their artificiality. The hard gaze regarded Duo skeptically, then it gave Duo a curt nod. "Hello." It looked back to the blue armored one. "Whose your friend Rowan?"

The blue one (Roun?) seemed like it was about to explain then decided against it. "The Warlawds missed one Seiji, we gotta take him with us." It actually sighed and moved towards Duo.

"With you!? I really don't-hey!" Duo yelped. The blue cyborg grabbed him around the waist and unceremoniously tossed the stunned pilot over it’s hard metal shoulder. Duo was suddenly looking at the bow up-close and upside down when the alley seemed to fall away beneath them. The cyborg jumped (flew?) from rooftop to rooftop, ignoring his outraged demands. As he breathlessly struggled in it’s iron grasp, every so often kicking hard enough to cause low muttered curses from the cyborg captor, Duo wondered if he had crossed some line. Reality seemed far, far away.


	2. part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sai of the Torrent vs... Heero? This can only end in tears. Oh, how I miss the fan art from this.

The Gundam pilot named Heero is a particularly freaky. He functions like a suicidal death machine and is very trigger happy. Hence choppy sentence structure below. I know what your thinking my fine feathered friend...what better person to met Sai? -Mink-

The Ronin Universe- As Seen by a Gundam Pilot on the Street

part 2

 

Heero briskly weaved his way through the jammed cars along 42nd Street. A strange bluish fog had settled in the city, blanketing everything in it's unnatural glow and making the most common day things alien. He wasn't sure if had gotten colder but it seemed like it, his scant green tank and black shorts doing nothing in the way of warmth.

Heero didn’t care. He treated the chill like all pain. Something to ignore. Rubbing the cool metal of his gun against the side of his face, he made his way between the tightly packed cars. His dark eyes kept a constant vigil around him, especially the rooftops. The last time he wasn't on personal alert he had almost been flattened by a car. Heero almost sighed at the memory. He couldn't really remember what had warned them, but he had reacted surprisingly fast. Landing in a pile of garbage cans, he started to get up, when a clear metallic ring had sounded from above. Crouching back in the garbage, he watched three lights descend on the street by the smoldering car. Before they ascended back to their battlefield on the city's skyline, Heero saw the human figures distinctly in their soft gauzy glow. Did they throw the car? Their lights had been all different colors. One bright red, and two other duller colors: a murky gray and a dusky purple. The wary pilot watched them leap into the air and disappear over the rooftops, taking the sound of clanging steel with them. He had ignored the wreckage of the mangled car. Duo was no where to be found and that suited him, he moved faster alone. He was on the lights trail, following their path of destruction. His orders were to secure the new weapons.

Clanging metal drifted to him in the unnatural stillness.

Heero paused, crouched low to the cracked ground. The safety on his gun clicked off. They had been planning to go south, to one of the bridges. Duo was probably headed that way now. The sound faded and Heero made to run to catch it again down the next block.

"Un!" Heero gouged his thigh on the jagged remains of a steel girder that lay buried under chunks of concrete. Crouching, he examined the deep cut that had sliced his black shorts open, as a circle of black crimson grew rapidly on the tight fabric. He would stitch when he was in a secure area. It hurt enough that he did not notice a figure land silently, not five feet in front of him.

The soft clang of metal snapped his head up, and he fell backwards, one hand going out behind him to break the fall, the other raising up in rapid fire, emptying a full clip on the target. Positive impact, negative damage. The pilot slid the spent gun into his shorts. Protective armor. A man with long straight red hair was looming above on the pile of concrete Heero was working around.

"Hello little one." the man said, in a low voice. His hand flexed around a very large and very sharp looking sickle, the steel edge gleaming a dull gray. He was clothed strangely, a black and gold tunic over something bulky. Maybe bio armor. Heero’s nerves glowed white hot. A faint golden light surrounded the armored man, emanating from him like tendrils of smoke. The eyes moved over Heero and through him like focused heat. "My Master calls little one."

Heero, frozen in place, slid his hand down to his ankle where he kept his blade in a sheath. The stoic pilot watched intensely as the man stepped forward, the chain attached to his sickle clanking loudly against his thigh. Heero waited unblinking, he wanted him closer.

A cold metal hand grabbed his wrist, and yanked him up, twisting his arm painfully. The armored man jerked Heero close, face to face, the faint golden tendrils of light intertwining with Heero’s hair. The edge of the sickle came smoothly to his throat, a cold sharp sting on his skin as the man began to push. "Say good night little one. It is time you saw hell."

You first. Heero snarled, the tip of his blade slamming home into the breast plate of the man. The knife shattered in his grip, the razor edge slicing down the inside of Heero’s hand. "K’so!"

The man paused, amused. "How interesting."

Mission failed. Heero, with an angry cry was about to push his throat hard and forever into the sharp sickle when suddenly the dreary light exploded around them.

The burning green eyes of the man suddenly shifted to the left, a angry growl escaping him. Before Heero could turn his head in the same direction another blinding blue light ignited in his face throwing him backwards. Instinctively, his arms went around his head as he waited for his body to smash up against the jagged outcrops of concrete he knew were all around them. Instead, very a odd thing happened. Someone caught him.

Heero felt an arm go around his waist and lock itself there. Struggling breathlessly, he tried to push away the arm with both hands, but the arm only grasped tighter bringing Heero up against its hard body. Turning to the side to see what had hold of him, he saw something in sky blue. Before he could register what he was seeing, Heero was forced down, face almost touching the broken pavement and then the street fell away below, his legs kicking in mid-air. Breath left him as he was forced harder against the arm as they rose. They seemed to be moving backwards at the same time. Heero mentally organized how long it would take to grab a new clip and draw his gun, his blade gone. They seemed to hover for a moment then he felt the sickening sinking feeling of falling and the grip around his waist tightened as he threatened to slip through its grip. With a teeth-jarring stop they landed, and Heero tensed, ready to break free. The grip around his waist released and the pilot whipped away, in one smooth motion drew his gun and slid the clip in with a click. It was someone in blue. Blue armor? It looked like a knight or something. No, not a knight.. something from the east. It held a huge spear-like weapon. A trident. The person swung it around effortlessly, placing it on some sheath on his back.

They were on a rooftop. The man with the sickle was no where on the street below. Heero immediately estimated the height from below. Roughly fifty feet above the street. This person had just jumped fifty feet. Jumped fifty feet while carrying him. Heero looked back at him, eyes narrowing. He had been mistaken. This wasn’t human. Biomech. Augmented certainly.

It was a weapon.

Heero fired, aiming for the head. If he could damage it’s optics maybe he could disable it. The bullets shattered fire against it’s helmet and it staggered back, holding up it’s hands.

Heero could see his face underneath his helmet as it turned back to look at him in something close to bewildered shock. It seemed to be regarding him with a mixture of anxiety and uncertainty. It had wide sea-green eyes that looked questioningly, it spoke, an English accent tilting the words. "Are you all right?" It was looking at his throat and then his thigh. "You're hurt."

Heero’s hand touched the cut on his neck, a thin stream of blood trickled warmly down to the collar of his tank. He didn’t even notice it. It was the pain in his hand that made the bloody grip he had on his gun almost unbearable. Casting the sensation aside, he studied the armored form quickly.

Bullets had no effect. Blade gone. Judging from the distance it had leapt, superior strength was a given. Heero scowled. Intelligence had given him useless information to secure this weapon. He needed his Gundam. All these thoughts assembled adding the events that had transpired within a matter of moments in the cool calm stage of his mind.

Heero stepped away from him, glancing around.

"Please-"

Heero emptied his gun in a steady stream of loud fire as he ran backwards, turning at the last moment to dive off the roof. The empty clip left his hand and the other slid the last round home as he left the roof top, dropping into freefall. Calmly, he calculated if he survived the long drop he would head south and rejoin his Gundam as they had planned.

Heero didn’t strike the jagged pavement. Instead, he was in the arms of the blue armored Biomech.

"I really wish you’d calm down?" It pleaded, truly dismayed.

Heero, his mouth twisting, jerked out of the grip of his savior. Stepping away the pilot raised his gun swiftly and pressed the still hot barrel to the weapon’s head. Last clip. To Heero’s surprise the Biomech put it’s cool metal hand over his and squeezed the trigger, the acrid stink of gun powder burst into the air between them as shots exploded against the blue armored helmet repeatedly.

"Do you see now? Honestly. " Blue Biomech was tired of games. It looked sad suddenly, and Heero noticed that it was young. Very young. "Please, " It said stepping forward, the voice was aghast. "I know this all may seem strange-"

Heero stepped away as it came forward. "Yamero." Stop.

The Biomech weapon looked down, frustrated. "We..I mean I'm not with Anubis." It gestured behind it with an armored hand. "I as well as some others are here to defeat him and the other Dark Warlords."

Heero studied him with quiescent eyes. Dark Warlords? He didn’t understand what the bio mech was saying. Drug ring? Heavy weapons supplier?

The mech sighed and looked around. "Look, you can't stay here, it's not safe." The blue armor clanged softly as it moved towards him. "You have to trust me."

Heero backed away, turning the burning hot gun to his own temple and pulling the trigger.

"Wait!" The biomech yelled in horror.

Click.

The pilot growled, the last clip was done. He tossed the gun behind him where it clattered on the pavement. 

Instantaneously a bright blue light filled his vision. Heero stumbled backwards, the debris littered street going in and out of focus. He suddenly felt incredibly sleepy. Fighting it, he staggered backwards away from the bio mech in sky blue armor.

Drugged. Heero scanned the front of his body for an entry point for a medical pellet. There was none. Air dispersion. Chemical ability. Heero cataloged the data for later use.

His face. There is a blue light coming from his face.

The growling pilot didn't remember laying down but he was looking up at bio mech now. The kind passive face was drawing near his as it gently lifted him in strong arms. Heero, near blackness, looked at the face so close to his own and found it inexplicably infuriating. Mission failed. He was being taken prisoner. A soft blue light was coming from its’s forehead, making Heero think fleetingly of the power source. Where was it? Power unit still functioning. No damage. Heero noted as the warm sleepy feeling threatened to shut his eyes for good.

The biomech’s sea-green eyes sparkled as it smiled down at him in astonished worry. "Go to sleep, I will take you somewhere safe." The last thing Heero thought as he drifted away was the distant soft sigh of waves crashing on a beach.

to be continued...


	3. part 3

Wayback Machine  
Aug SEP Mar  
Previous capture 20 Next capture  
1999 2000 2001  
31 captures  
20 Sep 2000 - 6 May 2008

About this capture

Ever wanted to see Seiji mad? Have fun... -Mink-

The Ronin Universe- As Seen by a Gundam Pilot on the Street

part 3

"Start spreading the news...I’m leavin today! I want to be a part of it!"

"Damare." came the hoarse voice, soft as always. Be quiet.

Heero was awake. Together again. Duo sighed. Heero never made captivity fun. "I can’t get it out of my head."

"Doryoku shite." Try.

Duo tried. "Cyborg?"

"Biomekku."

Duo nodded shortly. "Damage?"

"Nanimonai." None.

Great. Duo frowned. He had been watching the slow trickle of blood pool around Heero’s hand as it lay on the wooden floor of the abandoned apartment. The bandage, wrapped carefully by the cyborg that had brought Heero, was soaked through. The slash on his thigh looked better tho, the cyborg had washed and bound it with gauze. When it had noticed Duo watching, it had even offered him a small, uncertain smile. The silver and blue armored hands were slow and careful as they wound the white cloth around the wound, handling Heero’s bare thigh with the utmost care.

"Yer lucky he's in la la land my little cyborg friend." Duo commented as he watched Heero’s thigh being handled.

In a pulse of soft blue light, it had shed it’s larger armor for a smaller sleeker body formed version right before his eyes. Duo pretended not to be amazed.  
"I really wish you’d stop saying that. We're not cyborgs" It sighed, a British accent lilting its speech.

English cyborgs? Duo snorted. He should have demanded some god damn tea. The others were in another part of the dark apartment, he could hear their voices rise and fall through the thin walls.

After he had taunted baby blue cyborg for a while, it had--with ebbing patience--asked him his name but he'd decided to keep silent. Duo wondered about it. And why bother healing something after ripping it apart? Whatever they had done to Heero, it had sure made him sleepy. The pilot had been out of it for hours, ever since his arrival with this new cyborg. If Duo’s hands weren’t tied numb to the radiator against the wall he would have tended to Heero himself.

He hadn’t always been tied up of course. He was lashed securely to the radiator after trying to bash one of the cyborgs over the head with a chair. A black haired red cyborg who didn’t find the chair attack very funny, had said nothing as it ungently tightened the coaxial cable around his wrists with a hard jerk.

At least he was sitting down. He shifted his position. "I want to be a part of it new York new yoooork." Duo crooned softly laying his cheek against the cold cast iron of the radiator.

"Damare." Quiet.

"You’re bleeding." he pointed out.

Heero simulated something like a shrug. It was weak forced gesture. He still hadn’t opened his eyes.

"Are you dying?"

Heero shook slightly as if he found that funny but Duo knew better. Heero was trying to move. The bandaged hand brushed against Duo’s pant leg where he sometimes kept an auxiliary pistol. It was there. Heero slowly tugged the pant leg out of Duo’s combat boot and slid his hand up his leg.

Duo started to speak but a weak glare from Heero silenced him. The body warm pistol slid easily into Heero’s shaky bandaged palm.

 

Heero waited, breathing slowly, his hand squeezing and relaxing on the small pistol as he lay on the floor. It was a small pistol but it’s appearance was deceptive. His hand was sticky with blood, the throbbing burn of his slashed palm distracted him long enough grit his teeth. The drug he was exposed to by the biomech had been very effective but as it wore off, its anesthetic properties faded. If he had had the strength to switch the small weapon to his good hand he would have. He heard Duo tense behind him when the footsteps sounded down the hall. Someone was coming. One chance.

It was the one who brought him, opening the door and looking to him immediately in concern. Its outer armor was gone, optics in range and vulnerable.  
The gun went off, harsh and sharp in the small room. The target, his original captor, reacting with inhuman extraordinary speed, attempted to let itself fall backwards to avoid it but it wasn’t fast enough. It fell backwards onto a table hard, its hands going to its face.

Footsteps stormed down the hall and the room erupted in movement, the gun was twisted out of his hand in a matter of seconds, his bones threatening to snap in the grip of the orange biomech that had suddenly appeared.

Another of the biomechs, a dark blue one, was at the target. "Sai, jesus Sai!"

Heero felt cold satisfaction. Hopefully he had managed to shatter its optics or at least crippled it. The orange biomech that had him pulled its face to his own. "Are you crazy?!"  
Heero said nothing, he just stared blankly back at it. One machine to another.

"I’m-I’m okay." the sky blue target biomech was sitting up.

Heero felt his defeat, bitter and septic.

"It just grazed me." The biomech took it’s hand away.

Heero blinked staring. Blood. The bullet had grazed the target leaving a thin slash across its cheekbone. It was clearly in pain. It wasn’t bleeding clear hydraulic fluid, it was bleeding red. Heero exchanged a look with Duo who had also taken note of this development. Without that outer protective armor they could be injured.

The black haired one in red ripped a cable from the wall, yanking it out of the plaster until it snapped. "Tie him up." It growled. "Check both for guns and if you find any, get rid of them."

Heero knew what he had to do.

 

Trowa broke down the door after shooting the lock, Quatre standing behind him ever so often glancing around them warily. "This way." Trowa disappeared into the gloom of the building. "We should be able to see more from the roof."

They climbed the dark stairwell swiftly, the air stagnant and warm. Trowa turned briefly to ask Quatre if he had his gun, but Quatre already had it drawn, holding it against his chest as he peered ahead in the murk of the stairs. The roof was a bleak and empty black tar surface.

"Trowa do you see that?" Quatre’s voice held nothing short of awe.

The taller pilot felt his heart pound in his chest as adrenaline flooded his system. The view from the roof was, as he had predicted, spectacular even in the strange immovable twilight. Building after building stood mutely, islands in the bluish fog that had settled like a blanket over the streets, hovering with no wind to coax it like curious hands do. They could see the jagged spill of the bank, collapsed over the street and burying the restaurant they had sat in a entire universe ago. But the silent vista smeared with incredible destruction was not what had caused Quatre to seek his hand and squeeze it. There was something that dominated the scene, forcing the eyes to it when the ravaged streets urged them to linger.

It was a castle.

There it was, a towering monstrosity from feudal ancient Japan, snatched from history and twisted in a nightmare. The architecture was from the time of emperors, but exaggerated and flaunted. The massive golden vaulted walls and blood red gilded lattice sloped in insane angles, all of it offending the laws of physics. It wavered and shimmered like a mirage but sat solidly enough in the distant skyline amongst the sick gray clouds, dwarfing the famous buildings beneath it. Trowa thought it was grotesque.

"What is it?" His companion asked softly. The question drifted between them unanswered.

 

Heero watched the floor in indifference as his arms were yanked behind his back and the cables hissed tight around his wrists.

The building around them trembled with a distant roar of destruction. All five weapons tensed as one, all turning in the same vague direction. Remote detection. Radio ranging. Radar detection.

In multiple blinding flashes of light, one by one, with some unseen activation, the biomechs were back in the heavy mech gear.  
The red one spoke. "Come on guys." The air rumbled with the crack of thunder. It paused, and turned to Heero and Duo with a small scowl on it’s face. "One of us has to stay with them. Seiji."

The green biomech nodded and watched them go without a word.

 

They both stood for a long time looking out over the city. Trowa looked away from the lunatic addition to the skyline, a brief flow of vertigo washing over him. But then, entwined with the low moan of the unnatural wind, he heard the loud clear ring of metal screeching on metal. "They're back." The words had barely left Trowa’s mouth when two bright lights blazed over their heads like meteors throwing them both down onto the roof with a rush of wind.

The lights smashed into each other with a sharp CLANG against the alien gold of the sky, and a rumble like thunder. The red light faltered then flickered and was thrown back in the explosion right towards them.

"Trowa look out!" Quatre yanked at his wrist and they dove behind the small rise the roof door made, the roof trembled with the impact as the red light struck like a bomb.

Trowa looked around the corner, to where the red glow pulsed in the small crater it made of the black tar roof. The other light made to follow but a bright orange flare descended lighting the sky. It flared straight towards the other forcing it down to the street below and out of sight. Quatre was peering out around the opposite corner. "Look!" 

Quatre moved from behind their hiding place.

"Quatre wait-" But the blonde pilot had already run towards it. Trowa swore softly under his breath and swung around the corner to follow.

The figure was battered and smoking, the heavy red mecha armor pulsing softly in the dusty haze. The android had been damaged severely across the chest plate and helmet.

The soft red pulse began to glow strongly, burning bright enough for Trowa to lift his arm over his eyes. He stiffened. Self destruct. Trowa shoved Quatre down and covered him with his body as the red light exploded soundlessly. Tense, he waited for the blast but none came. Looking back over his shoulder, the battered android was gone and replaced by a figure that lay still.

Quatre gasped from underneath him. "A human!" Quatre quickly scrambled out from the taller pilot.

It was a boy sprawled still as death in the rubble, long wisps of black hair clung to his face and neck. Quatre knelt beside him quickly and took his wrist. "He’s alive." He put a pale hand on the boy’s forehead. "He's so warm. Oh Trowa, you were right, they are people!" The small voice was filled with wonder as his hand went from the burning hot wrist to touch the raven black hair.

Trowa was less struck by the marvel of warm skin and nonprosthetic hair. He frowned. The boy was a late teenager and was wearing jeans and an oversized T-shirt. One of his sneaker’s laces was untied. Why would he have access to mecha armor? The young man didn’t even appear as if he could be trusted to deliver a newspaper on time let alone be entrusted with such amazing and devastating fire power. 

The young man opened his eyes.

Trowa abruptly understood.

With a soft moan, the hard dark eyes flickered back and forth between them both, stunning Trowa with the fury that burned in them. "Wh-where is he?" He asked immediately,   
his entire body was shuddering in tension.

The other light. Trowa did not miss the "he".

"It is gone." Quatre sighed, searching the sky. "Another one chased it off."

This seemed to calm the boy but not by much, he tried to roll over.

"You really shouldn’t move," Quatre instructed him. "You’ve been in an accident."  
He cleared his throat. "Sort of."

The young man glared at Quatre, blinking several times. "I’m okay." He painfully righted himself, his gaze going to Trowa and staying there.

Trowa met the smoldering gaze and was hypnotized. This was no teenager with stolen battle armor, nothing--he mused--like himself. Trowa suddenly realized he didn’t know what he was. Deciding to keep his distance, his senses rioted against Quatre being as close as he was to him (Or it.) Careful Quatre. Trowa urged him mentally. The open nature of the boy would kill him one day.

Maybe both of them.

The young man flinched away when Quatre attempted to help so he reluctantly took his hands away. "You took an awfully big fall?" The pale blonde pilot insisted.

"S’kay, " The young man breathed, sitting painfully. "It happens a lot."

"Who do you work for?" Trowa suddenly needed to know.

The young man regarded him strangely. "Work?"

"Trieze?"

The name obviously meant nothing to him. "No one," he said simply instead.

Another affiliate? The earth military? Trowa knew he had misunderstood the response but clarity did not receive him. "What are you fighting?"

The young man stood, shorter than Trowa. "It is kinda a long story. He was studying them both with a scrutiny that was above threat or the act of being threatened.

"You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous." His wary gaze scanned the sky and all around them.

Quatre glanced back at Trowa and rolled his eyes. "Yes, we’ve noticed."

"You can’t hurt them with that. " He gestured to the gun Trowa still held in his hand.

"Or you?" Trowa’s voice and the question held a barely concealed message.

The young man did not miss it. "Don’t worry about me." It sounded like an order.  
His gaze went back to the gun. "It’s just the wrong weapon. It might make a Warlord laugh but that is about it."

"War Lord?" Quatre asked, the words coming out strangely.

The young man blinked tiredly. "I know you dudes must be confused." His gaze wary, searching around them constantly. "But I don’t have time to fill you in."  
Dudes? Trowa holstered his gun.

"Ryo!" A voice called from somewhere.

Quatre and he moved together in one fluid moment, both turning and aiming their guns at the new figure that appeared at the roof’s edge.

"Easy fellas." The young man sounded amused. "He’s on my side."

The new presence was impressive, making Trowa look to his gun in dismal appraisal. It wasn’t red but a deep orange and of all things the wearer of the strange lopsided horn helmet and hefty spear, was grinning at them. It made a low whistle. "Get arrested Ryo?"

"I’m not sure." It was the young man’s turn to look at them strangely. "Come with us. "Again a command. The young man turned to leave without another word.

Quatre looked to Trowa as if he agreed with it, but not for the reasons this young man seemed to exude. Trowa nor Quatre had seen personal body armor this powerful and to not find out who they answered to would be professional suicide. This vacation had turned mission. He wished he had some way to contact Dr. H.

"Are you with Oz?" Quatre was involuntarily stepping away from the hulking orange armor as its wearer attempted to usher them towards the roof door.

"Nope. Hate that flick. Flying monkeys gave me nightmares." The dark eyed person winked at them, swinging his spear over his shoulder.

Trowa shared a small frown with Quatre. This person behaved as if it didn’t even know what Oz was.

The orange armored one was looking at their guns. "I think we might’ve met a few of your friends."

Quatre frown. " Friends?"

He smirked. "They're being babysat until we get back."

 

The biomech sat unarmored at a small table opposite them. It didn’t attempt to speak to them or offer anything in way of their comfort like a few of the others had. It basically ignored them. Duo was apprehensive He was considering that maybe he and Heero had been wrong. The cyborgs, or biomech or whatever they were, might not actually be what they thought they were. Maybe these cyborgs were more bio than mech. The bound pilot hoped so, the more bio the better. Humans were susceptible to the small capsules of anesthetic Heero had hidden in his hands.

At least some of them he suspected of being mostly human if not completely. Of all the cyborgs to stay behind, he'd been hoping this one wouldn’t be it. This one, he suspected was a full on Borg, it’s wordless compliance and taciturn movements were unnerving. It had been wearing dark green armor before but that had vanished with some unheard command, not into the smaller body formed armor he had seen the other’s wear but into normal clothing. Even without the armor it was still spooky. Its stoic visage and precise behavior were somewhat horrifying. Machines that bled were never covered in his training.

Heero lay in front of him, his hands clasped together feigning bondage behind his back. He had worked loose of the crude cable knot long ago. The moment was upon them, there had been no sign of the other biomechs for an hour. It had to be done quickly before the biomech had a chance to reactivate its armor. Heero nodded curtly to Duo who was waiting tensely in his binds for the signal.

Duo spoke. "Hey!" Duo tried to sound believably panicked. "I don’t think he’s breathing!"

The biomech looked up at him with a breath-stopping level gaze, and then turned its attention to Heero who was laying very still and limp on the floor.

"Come on, I’m serious!" Duo was playing it for all it was worth. It stood. Duo chewed on the inside of his lip. Come on come on you freak...  
It paused several feet away studying Heero. "He's alive."

Shit. The biomech must have some kind of extra sensory information. Duo fought the urge to sign in defeat. "He isn’t breathing! Come ON man, just check him!" Duo scrambled at his binds with effort, desperate to rush to Heero’s side.

The biomech sighed shortly, a fine line forming between its light blue eyes. It drew nearer, its face unreadable but somehow skeptical as it’s gaze flickered back and forth from Duo to Heero’s inert body.

One more step.

Duo lunged as far as his bound wrists would let him, and swung his leg out. The biomech reacted immediately and instead of falling, it stumbled backwards. But it was enough.  
Heero was in action.

Heero flung both knees to the back of the biomech’s legs, flooring them both. Heero didn’t let it get up, instead he quickly rolled, straddling the biomech’s chest. Heero crushed the small capsules he had managed to keep hidden and closed his hand over its nose and mouth, pressing it hard enough to smother it.

The biomech reacted faster than Duo had hoped. With a swift kick upwards Heero was flipped over its head and slammed onto his back. The biomech was standing and dragging Heero to his feet, its fist hurling into Heero’s shoulder instead of his throat only because Heero managed to dodge away. Duo winced at the sound of Heero’s shoulder dislocating.

But then it happened. The biomech swayed to a stagger. The drug was working.

It jerked, smashing Heero against the wall, but the drug worked fast and was slowing the biomech to half its speed. Heero punched forward, his fist contacting with the hard abdomen, and the machine hit the floor. Heero fell with it, his hand firmly pressed over its face.

It gave one last attempt at freedom, knocking Heero backwards so hard, the pilot gasped to breathe again. The damage was done. Its blue eyes struggled to remain open, silent   
in defeated rage. Then flickered closed.

Duo struggled with his trapped wrists, frantically. "Hurry before they come back!"

Heero paused, and steeling himself, with a small muffled cry, he slammed his shoulder into the wall, relocating his shoulder with a sickening crack.

Duo made a face. "Nice." Heero's face did not change, the cables binding Duo giving way under his hands.

"Shit, that feels good!" Duo rubbed his wrists. Heero gestured to the door with a nod.

"Hyaku." Hurry.

Duo heaved the window open and swung out onto the fire escape as Heero lifted the felled weapon over his shoulders. 

"Ninmu kanryou." Mission accomplished.

The pilots with their secured weapon disappeared into the half twilight.

 

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About this capture  
> Jink/Kirsten, thanks for all your help in completing this chapter, you make Museum's ever so full of pickled squid.... : )~....a few more to go, hang in there Seiji.... -Mink-  
> The Ronin Universe- As Seen by a Gundam Pilot on the Street
> 
> Art By PL Nunn

part 4 

 

The rumbling sky was a flat shade of sulfur, glimpsed above and between the dark monoliths of the looming buildings, their windows black and lifeless. The empty street was like a long bleak corridor, colossal in size, the car cluttered streets deserted, a distant creak and groan of settling wreckage the only sound save for their own footsteps. There were vague shapes hidden in the swirling sluggish vapors above them. They played tricks on the eyes, the dark curled and flowed, seeming to form sweeping arches, and even kawara textured towers, but that of course was ridiculous.

Duo glanced behind him nervously, his eyes narrowing in the gloom. "Do you think they're following us?"

Heero did not answer him. He had let the weapon slump lifelessly to the ground to climb a crumbling pile of concrete. The weapon was pale, its flaxen hair damp on its face. It hadn’t revived, and knowing the nature of the drug Heero had used, it wasn’t going to any time soon.

Heero’s head cocked slightly to one side.

A noise.

"What's that?" Duo heard it now too. It was a steady tread, somewhat like the violent clang of battle they had heard before but different. It was rhythmic, and measured, not chaotic.

They both glimpsed a shadow, appearing and vanishing between the far end of an alleyway, followed by another and another. Duo knew that sound well enough, it was the steady march of soldiers.

Oz! Duo smirked. So they were here. He crept through the dark narrow alley and pressed himself back against the damp cool brick wall.

He scowled.

The soldiers were almost close enough to reach out and tap as they passed single file down the cracked sidewalk.

But these were unlike any Oz infantry he had ever seen before. They moved in perfect synchroneity. The placement of their armored step was too finely in synch, none faster or slower than the other. He had experienced fully automated robotics, some models even similar to these but he could hear something strange under the steady stomp of their passage. Instead of the whirling and tell tale click of machinery, he heard low moaning as if their forced march was ghastly and pained them. Instead of the acrid stink of oil and hydraulic fluid, he smelled damp soil, like a slow rot underneath it all.

He held his breath as the battalion strode listlessly past them. Faces were not visible on these models, the weapons almost crude, just spears. No guns. Duo was puzzled. What kind of damage did they think they were going to do with no people around? What was left to skewer? Besides them.

Duo gnawed at his lower lip. He had one word for it that he would never admit out loud, but it was all that came to mind.

Spooky.

Duo decided he should get out of there.

He turned ready to sprint, nearly crashing into Heero who had abandoned the weapon to join him.

"Woah!" Duo skidded to a halt his eyes round with a breathless panic. Heero 's eyes were scanning the ranks of living metal behind him.

"Biomekku?" He asked.

Duo shrugged, attempting to feign ease."Definitely mech, probably dangerous. Maybe more freaks like that one." He tried to shake the feeling that had overcome him. Knowing he couldn’t explain it, and knowing full well his companion would not give a damn, he turned to watch the procession with Heero.

He drew his gun just in case they took any notice. They waited and waited, listening to the seemingly endless clamor. Finally, the last ranks were pulling out. A sudden explosion of noise crackled from above and Duo recognized the telltale sound of debris falling from the rooftops. A large greyish blur of falling cement sent one of the mechs crashing into the asphalt. Nothing stopped for it, the rhythm unwavering eerily, entirely inhumane. The ranks moved silently on.

So much for comradeship.

Duo waited until Heero moved, scurrying out from the alley to inspect the fallen soldier. Heero stopped abruptly at first, testing the distance. When the soldier beneath the fallen chunk made no move to aid itself, he peered down for a closer look. The face under the helmet was black as pitch, and only two steady glow of red eyes could be seen.

Heero's gun rang out in abrupt fire, shattering the armor of the thing as it shuddered on the ground. Duo sent a descending kick to its throat to snap its neck.

The helmet rolled off the armored body and something that could only be steam emanated from it, leaving the armored shell like smoke.

Duo kicked again at the thing and it collapsed in on itself, like an empty shell. "It's empty." He croaked.

Heero looked down at it for a moment and made a small face.

"Garakuta." He said. Trash.

 

Nothing worked. No orders had been received. Couldn't be received, Duo reminded himself looking at his dead comlink in disgust. Even the small battery cell in his link had failed.

Leaving them no point B. The only structure closest to standing was a church. That would be point B...for now.

Heero sat unmoving under the cob web like shatter of the cobalt blue window, the violence that had created it long gone, leaving the delicate stained glass suspended at the brink of its own end. He watched the deserted streets with a patience Duo couldn’t manage without booze.

St. Thomas's was silent like the rest of the city, one wall crumbled inwards exposing the office buildings at its side, and the oak pews scattered and splintered like dominos fallen. The altar was a shattered ruin, the vestibule tipped onto its side.

Heero had taken time to secure the weapon much more soundly than he had before.

Taking the baseball cap he had stashed in a deep cargo pocket and pulling it on backwards, Duo had to admire his work.

They had found metal cord wire in the wreckage and had bound the cyborg with it, convinced it would not break free without its outer armor. Even if it regained full consciousness, the binds were tightly and professionally administered. The weapon wasn’t going anywhere.

It still had not reactivated, and was cold and limp under their hands while they worked.

Duo had searched its pockets, wondering as he did, how human this weapon was that it required or even desired clothing while not using its power. The thing’s body underneath the fabric of its clothing was hard and finely muscled. Its breathing was shallow but steady, and its skin was cool to the touch. Its eyes struggled open when he pulled the shirt free to check if it was concealing anything. Duo could see where it had been wounded previously and healed or had been repaired. Its eyes closed soon afterward, it was too dazed and sick to even do that much.

He found nothing on it but a small marble.

Duo sat, his back against one of the few remaining upright wooden benches. It was pretty really. He rolled the cool sphere in his finger tips, watching the way the scant bit of luminescence that remained glimmered and flashed in its core.

Studying it even closer, he was convinced that it was his eyes playing tricks and not the small marble.

Then he heard a low groan.

The weapon, who had been sprawled on his back, had rolled onto his side, drawing his knees up to his chest, its eyes struggling to open.

Duo frowned, watching as it tried to free the bound hands behind it, and then thankfully failing. Its legs were bound from ankles to the knees, making the range of motion very limited.

It looked at him.

The sphere in his hand suddenly flickered and then flared, with a cold green fire at its heart.

Duo gasped and almost dropped it.

It saw what he was holding and its eyes flickered in what Duo could only call alarm, and the marble flickered and pulsed in agitation.

Hmm. Duo crawled cautiously closer to the bound cyborg and watched the marble gleam brighter, a strong steady green light by the time he was next to it. The shine illuminated them both, the cyborg's already pale face, a curious sickly green in its glow.

It suddenly occurred to him, watching the laserlike shafts of light, that the cyborg's outer armor had also been green. "Is this how you use it?" Duo asked softly in wonder rolling the curious sphere in his fingertips, expecting it to grow warm or even hot, but it remained cool to the touch. "Is this how you activate your bioarmor?"

It said nothing, Duo was uncertain if it was even capable, but its cold stare threatened him in ways that words could not.

Duo studied its face instead of the marble in his hand. If the cyborg was anything like a human it wouldn't be feeling that great. The drug Heero had used was powerful, and Duo had suffered its effects before making the worst hang over feel like a joke. Sure, it bled but so did Robocop, right? As far as Heero was probably concerned it was the goal, the mission, just classified goods. Good looking goods. But still not a person. Not like him. So why did he feel wrong about this?

Duo pocketed the orb and the cyborg's ice blue gaze closed.

"Some peashooter." He shrugged, pulling the black baseball cap over his eyes and leaning back against the pews. Duo whimpered trying to get comfortable on the hard wooden bench.

Heero blinked at him. "Nanda?"

"I'm hungry." Duo complained. "How long have we been here?"

Heero didn't answer. Duo wasn't surprised, who could tell an hour from a minute with the sky like that. Something hit him in the back of the head. Duo retrieved the bag of crackers. Heero must have found them when they searched the place.

"Thanks."

Heero resumed his vigil and had permitted himself rest or the closest thing to it, sitting on the pews staring into out into the street. Still, he was awake--no funny business then. Good for him. The crackers were gone.

He wanted a nap.

 

 

Duo awoke to a series of piercing blips. Heero 's comlink was going berserk. Duo jolted upright in the pew, tired muscles protesting. Power? He quickly checked his own comlink but it was dead. "What's the verdict?"

Heero was forcing the ill cyborg, none too gently, to its feet, ripping away some of the binds so it could walk.

"Ikou." Let's go.

Duo guessed he'd found point B.

 

 

Trowa watched Quatre carefully jump down from the overturned truck, his gaze flickering to the two that had lead them swiftly and confidently through the wrecked city streets. Quatre met and returned his concerned look.

"If they meant us harm, I am sure it would have been done by now." The blonde pilot said softly enough to not be overheard.

Trowa nodded absently, his mind in a whirl. They still had their weapons, and as futile as the dark haired boy in sneakers had insisted they were, he felt better with his gun pressed into his side.

"My friends are just ahead, waiting for us." The black haired boy turned and told them. "They said it's all clear."

Trowa noted that the red armor he had worn was no longer on, and he couldn't make out any kind of communication device. How did he know?

At that moment, the light around the boy leading them flared, and it was back, the red armor they had seen him in. Another gesture and two liquid slivers of light poured into his hands and solidified into the sharp glints of weapons. He held them for a moment before causally slipping them both into the black sheaths on his back. Just like that.

It was astonishing.

Trowa remembered to shut his mouth.

Quatre made a small sound.

"New types."

It halted them both. Trowa looked at him hard. Of course. How could he not have thought of it? Armor that came and went at will, telepathy, the scale of destruction all around them all pointed to the poorly understood and thus far untapped power of this new generation science was just beginning to fathom.

"Huh?" The powerful one with orange metal armor ablaze like a late sunset had paused to look at them.

Quatre stepped forward, his voice wavering in uncertainty. "Is that how you do these things?" He gestured around them. "Are you new types?" He sounded almost hopeful. A simple yes would explain so much.

Trowa frown, he was also just beginning to understand that Quatre was one of these products of evolution, and a tremor of fear went through him at the idea that he might share something in common with the mysteries that stood staring at them in weary confusion.

"New types." The boy in red armor repeated, thoughtfully. "No." He half smiled almost apologetically.

"What the--?" The one in orange made a face. "New types? That some sorta band?" His formidable frame shook with a laugh.

Quatre shook his head and stepped forward. "They're..." he began, then paused, frustrated. "...oh, I can't explain but I ...feel something?" He looked suddenly and absolutely confused.

It disturbed Trowa. He didn't like being so very outside of something Quatre could only barely perceive in his mind.

The one in red and previously in sneakers cleared his throat. "We have a um," He looked to his friend who shrugged, "...a duty. You know, a job?" He looked encouraged by using a word he assumed they would understand. "We have to fight or we won't win."

"Five of you." Quatre said flatly.

"Yeah, hey how did you know that?" The powerful one shifted his spear and eyed him with a grin.

How ~did~ he know that? Trowa looked to Quatre in apprehension.

 

There was a distant sound, that rang through the silence like a bell tolling midnight.

The two warriors both drew their weapons as one and turned towards it. They spoke curtly to one another, almost finishing one another's sentences.

"It isn't one of the guys-"

"Must be-."

"Yep."

"What's going on?" Trowa reflexively drew his gun.

"There is one near by now." Quatre said and worry dawned in his eyes. "I can feel it."

Unsure if Quatre was concerned because another one was approaching or the fact that he was able to tell, Trowa knew that whatever was on its way, it wasn't any good. A wind picked up, stirring the dust and making a shattered traffic light sway on the lone cable that kept it from crashing down into the street. The sound grew louder and louder bringing the wind to a roar. It made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Backing away, Trowa was about to urge Quatre to follow him back into the deserted maze of the city, when the two armored figures that stood in tense readiness both sprang into action.

Without warning, sticky white strands exploded into every direction clinging to debris and the teetering walls of wreckage.

One strand, the size of a thick cable of rope struck Trowa square in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Gasping for breath he realized the colorless substance had flowed over and trapped his arm and neck to the ground. He couldn't move to see what had become of Quatre. Another barrage hit him, slamming and pinning his other arm down, his wrist striking the ground sending his gun skittering across the pavement. The rope like weapon constricted him, making it impossible to breathe. Bright lights exploded in his vision as he struggled to remain conscious.

As he lost the fight, he thought he saw above and about him, strewn throughout the concrete towers and sky, a magnificent spider web stretching between skyscrapers, a city bus was upended, suspended with chunks of debris caught up in massive grotesque threads.

Trowa had one last moment to experience a detached curiosity as to what created it.

And then he was gone.

 

 

The Museum of Natural History stood an imposing fortress in the cluttered mess that had become Central Park West. The dark red bricks were distressed here and there but it had been spared for the most part. As they walked its grounds for the exact entrance, he couldn't help but be taken in by the medieval quality of the building, like the home of some mad scientist where chilling oddities and various exotic odds and ends were housed.

It was not an unreasonable comparison.

 

Weak sickly light through the large windows glazed the still life figures of Native American canteen in the main hall, their outlines eerie in the near darkness. Debris covered everything, crushed tickets and dropped purses, the remains of mass panic littered the floor. Heero seemed to have been already familiarized with the area and Duo followed him, trying not to shudder at the vast size of the place. Being inside the Museum of Natural History was not unlike wandering through the empty streets. Desolate, mazelike and utterly unnatural.

Glassy-eyed creatures from all corners of the Earth stared out at him behind windows of glass, frozen in life. Preserved specimens in jars floated silently, staring eyes in the darkness. Duo talked. He couldn't help it. This entire assignment had him totally freaked.

"Cozy, huh?"

Heero answered with a shrug. The weapon had no comment. Likely it was still coming out of the drug-induced stupor. Or, it was calling their bluff. Duo rubbed the handle of the gun at his hip. Considering what it was capable of, he couldn’t afford to take its compliance for granted. "Who'd wanna pay to see a huge pickled squid?" They were taking a shortcut through the marine life exhibit. Giant clamshells with gaping jaw like bivalves gleamed white, shadowy shapes of creature models hung from the ceiling. He wanted to get this mission over with pronto. Duo kept his eyes on the weapon's back in front of him.

"You know where you're going, right Heero ?"

If he did or didn't, Heero wasn't about to tell him. The thought unnerved him. How the fuck were they supposed to find their way out of this wacky place?

"Kocchi." Heero said. This way.

Duo's heart lifted. They stopped in a room full of skeletal monsters, built tall enough to reach the ceiling. Duo balked at the sheer might of it.

Heero was pushing aside a glass case full of large velocoraptor claws lain out for display. He knelt to the cold tiles, prying a loose one away to reveal the ancient primary base underneath. He stepped on it, kicking away the crumbling matter. Duo understood. Leave it to the freaks running the game to set up shop underground.

The faint outline of a trap door was easily hauled up, exposing a bright square of light.

Occupied voices could be heard, along with the sound of a countless number of machines humming from far below.

Duo squinted at the powerful electric light having spent so many hours in the gloom. "They have power down there." His eyes adjusted enough to make out the steel vertical ladder they would have to climb to get down. He looked at the weapon who was regarding the trap door wearily. Dilemma. "We are gonna have to untie him." Great. Duo didn’t want to be near the thing as it was, who knew what it would do if they freed it.

Heero looked at the bound hands behind the weapon and then the steel ladder and then back to the weapon. Without even a pause he violently shoved the listless weapon forward through the hole in the floor.

Duo gasped and then winced when he heard the weapon make contact with the perforated metal floor far below.

"Oh that’s just GREAT." Duo growled at the serious pilot who was looking down into the fluorescent glare with interest. "That was classified shit! We lug the thing all over the city and you go and break it? What the fuck is wrong with you!"

Heero gestured for Duo to go first.

Grumbling, Duo swung down onto the ladder, looking below him to see the sprawled figure of the weapon laying motionless on the cat walk at its base. "Wonderful, fucking wonderful." He had to make a small jump to clear the weapon's body, and Heero was right behind him.

Duo prodded it with his foot but it did not stir. "What are we gonna tell the Doc?" Duo started to shake his head and put up a decisive hand. "Strike that, what are YOU gonna tell Doc."

"Ikuzo" Heero told the weapon. Let’s go.

Remarkably, the weapon moaned softly and rolled onto its back. It was still working. It struggled to its knees and Heero hauled it to its feet, its lip curled in anger, and its eyes flashed at Heero with exhausted rage. But it was in bad shape, it could barely stand without faltering.

Duo blinked in surprise and looked up the long towering length of ladder. No one could have survived that fall, let alone without serious injury. And the weakness the weapon was experiencing came long before the fall.

Well, that answered that question, it was definitely not human.

 

 

It didn't take long to reach the rendez-vous point, a few wrong turns and they were there. Unarmed guards in hazard suits stood before the heavy iron door and demanded the usual song and dance before they were allowed entrance. Even though they were expected.

Duo thought it stupid. Why tight security for a place no one even knew existed in a deserted area? Fear nibbled at his thoughts. They were here to study the weapons. Perhaps the reason for so much security was not what was outside but was what was being studied inside. Duo glanced for the millionth time at the weapon beside him. In its present state, it didn't seem like it could do a whole lot of damage, even for a cyborg. They took it away quickly, treating it much more harshly than Heero had managed since its capture. Duo watched them bully it down the corridor and felt the slightest twinge of regret. He should have told them it wouldn't put up much of a fight. He wondered for the first time, what they planned to do with it.

The central lab had the tightest security, and a mechanical lock the size of a bank vault took several minutes to lurch and clank open. The main lab was a blinking steel wonderland of information. Machines of all shapes and sizes blipped and whirred, monitored and measured, some with functions Duo could not even determine. They were all at work. Where had the old freaks dug up so much power?

"Ah, Heero."

Dr. J hobbled over to greet them, his movements accompanied by the slow scrape of steel against the cement floor.

"We have been told you have secured one. Well done." If the old man's pseudo eyes could light up, they would have. He'd lost the originals a long time ago and was now forced to "see" through a computer. Small round metal disks rotated in the sockets where his eyeballs had once been. A considerable percentage of Dr. J's body was not flesh, turning his already trollish appearance into that of some sort of cyborg dwarf. His short, fat legs were disfigured and bound in metal frames, one arm a metal claw. Yet beside his comrades he was almost unremarkable. All of them were here. They were all misshapen lumps of man but each one brilliant.

"We are glad your comlink functioned, we weren't sure if the range would be a problem." Duo jumped, recognizing the voice even though it was not often heard. Dr. G's wild shock of gray hair flared outward in a thick mushroom, his long, pointed nose standing out in his narrow face. He was after all this time, still stare worthy.

Duo half smiled. "We got it."

"We are trying to determine the efficacy of our technology against these rare prototypes." Dr. J explained. "Our efforts extend well beyond any military engagement. As you might have guessed already, this is no Oz skirmish."

"You captured one alive." Dr. G stroked his pointed chin. "Most impressive."

Duo shrugged, Heero didn't react. "You guys've been busy little bastards." Duo took a quick look at the brightly lit lab, all the advanced equipment. He didn't expect much more than a blender to function in the ruined state things were in.. "How come you have power? The rest of the city is dead."

The doctors all seemed to suppress a smile at once, it was plainly from pride. Dr J took to the question with something like glee. "We have been studying this phenomena for some time now, we finally managed to develop an energy source that is not effected by it." His mechanical hand clicked in agitation.

Phenomena. Duo snorted. But then he frowned. He realized he didn't agree with the Doctor's assessment of the nature of the weapons, and wasn't sure when he had changed his mind.

"Gandamu." Heero said, seemingly confident that they were the next logical course of action against the threat. The Gundams.

The mood of the room was suddenly very serious.

One was tall and stocky with no hair at all on his smooth head. This was Master O who hailed from China. He shuffled forward. "We outfitted Shenlong with this new technology to allow the Gundam to function within the vicinity without the usual power failure. We waited and waited for an opportunity like this one." He explained and lowered his gaze. "However, Shenlong was destroyed testing the abilities of the phenomenon."

Heero considered this and gave the floor a look that was close to frustration. Duo sympathized. If they couldn't use their Gundams what were they supposed to do?

"The pilot has been either wounded or killed, the recovery unit reported him missing." Master O seemed disturbed by this last bit of information, his authoritative voice lowering into bewilderment. "The cockpit was intact, the safety harness had not been released, the command codes had been set for self destruct and activated, but never initialized."

Duo thought about the strange foot soldier on the street, that had vanished like smoke. Maybe that is what became of Wufei, perhaps he had suffered the same fate as the millions of citizens that had up and disappeared into nowhere. Wherever the stoic pilot had ended up, Duo was quite sure he could take ample care of himself. He hoped.

Dr. S was also short and squat with a seedy black mustache and small beady eyes shining in his flabby face. He continued by clearing his throat. "Shenlong was not a complete loss. We were able to salvage one of the weapons which was damaged in the encounter, and secured it before it could recharge itself."

"Mo hitotsu." Heero affirmed softly. Another weapon.

"As you now know, we're determined to combat this threat, we needed to secure one of them ourselves. With the Gundams being as ineffectual as they are, we had no choice." With a brief blurred typing on a keyboard, the broad screen above them smartly clicked onto to three different monitors, revealing three different angles of an empty room. Not quite empty, there was a figure in the far off corner.

It was a weapon.

This one had slits for eyes, its rigid posture disturbingly frozen, like a statue as it sat in the far corner staring straight back up with a serpentine gaze at the camera watching it. It was covered in a deep green armor casing, its pallid complexion and olive hair made it seem almost alien.

"Its helmet was destroyed, and several of its blades were damaged but we managed to salvage them." Dr J said with a fervor he reserved for his science. "It is quite fascinating. It seems to operate with biochemical toxins. Several of our assistants were overcome by the exposure before we managed to contain it."

Duo studied it uncomfortably. "What's keeping it from busting out of there?" Considering what one of these things could do to an entire city block, the tiny clean room with its shiny sterile metal walls didn't seem like much.

The last Doctor also sported wild gray hair, cropped in a messy style. His large, red nose was swollen and framed by a pair of thin wired spectacles. Dr. H continued. "We discovered our technology that provides us power within the outage zones also has allowed us to maintain and regulate the power flow to its armor. It keeps it extremely weak. Of course we have administered very powerful sedatives, we weren't sure it would survive but it's done remarkably well." Dr. H smiled, very pleased with his subject's stamina.

Duo thought of the weapon they had retrieved. It explained why it was so weakened by the time they arrived."Is it human?" He peered into the monitor, leaning close to get a good look at it. This one looked way different from the one they had spent the better part of the day dragging around the New York streets.

"We've sampled its DNA and have yet to determine."

"Some sort of hybrid." Dr. H added. "Reptile."

"Don't let the good doctor fool you with his findings." Dr. S said gravely. " Thus far, we have been unsuccessful in trying to remove the armor from the biomech and subjected it to any useful study."

"Why, what do you want to do with it?" Duo asked, feeling he knew why before he was told. Heero was listening silently, but met Duo's look.

"We want to see if it is compatible with new type biology." he explained. "If it can be removed, perhaps we can use it."

Duo swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering at his own unease. His gaze went back to the odd serpentine stare of the other weapon who still stared at them all through the monitor, unblinking and still. "You are going to put it on a person?"

"This subject has been..." He and all of the other Doctors looked uncomfortable"... uncooperative. Even under controlled pain stimuli."He sighed. "Its only communication has been minimal but in a very old dialect."

The other Doctors collectively sighed at the dilemma.

"We are very pleased you managed to secure one still functioning. We realize it must have been very difficult, but as far as we can tell, these weapons are useless to us if we cannot remove the armor they wear." Dr S finished.

The pilot felt his defeat sink in and tugged at his braid. They had gone through all of that for nothing?

At that moment, another monitor snapped brightly on, revealing another room far below them in the bowels of the laboratory. The despondent group all came to attention, interested in the new arrival.

The tall pale haired weapon biomech was lead in, two assistants on either side of it, faceless in their bio hazard suits and air tanks. They had replaced his clothing with a black form fitted suit, not unlike the ones used in his own initial training with the Gundam. It was a smart piece of thread, shot through with hidden fibreoptic wires, keeping a computerized eye on its wearer's vitals.

Duo looked down, unable to watch it being slammed down onto the sterile table and strapped there. There was a collective weighty silence which made him look back up again.

"Its armor." Dr J stammered. "It hasn't got it on."

Dr. H clapped him on the back. "Your hypothesis was correct all along Doctor! There is indeed an activation and deactivation mechanism. If only we knew how to trigger it."

A trigger.

Duo whipped out the orb that still sat in his pocket temporarily forgotten. "Oh, you mean this thing?" It glinted bright green, flashing like it was alive.

The Doctors all gasped. Dr. J came forward to grasp the shimmering sphere from Duo in his metal claw and examine it.

"Shinmin hitsuyo." Heero stepped forward. You need a test subject.

"Indeed we do." Dr. J looked to Dr. S.

Heero blinked looking between them both.

"Contact Winner."

Dr. S gave a solemn nod which sealed the conversation.

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

"Trowa?"

He was dreaming, floating between unconsciousness and light. In the dark, there was a city, and a bomb had fallen from the sky, slowly like a drop of water in the late sun, shimmering violently.

"Please?"

But it struck the city center, and he waited for the blast, for ground zero to grow and grow, a circle of destruction that would eat and eat, but there was nothing.

"Please..."

The buildings stayed, the structures were sound, but the people vanished faster and more completely than ashes, disappearing like wisps of smoke were they stood, one by one until they were all gone. The sky turned deep yellow and the light left the world, stolen by a looming shadow.

"Wake up!"

Trowa opened his eyes, confused. He couldn't see anything but white, brightness glinting off pale hair. It was in his face.

"You're awake." It was Quatre. He sounded relieved.

He realized he was buried in Quatre's neck. A hand was patting his face gently, moving swiftly across his forehead, checking for damage. "Are you all right?"

He tried to speak, his mouth and throat dry, and waited for the pain he knew must lay dormant beneath the haze of waking. But none came, only a dull ache in his chest. "What...what happened." Trowa managed to sit up on his own, his hands going to the front of the navy blue turtleneck. He was covered in a strange fiber. He made a small face. It clung firmly to his shirt and the skin of his hands like old honey, silky and white.

"There are bad ones Trowa." 

Trowa grimaced as he stood, stumbling as he got his bearings. Bad ones. Indeed, formidable, he thought. Quatre had been reduced to a child's terms in his shock. Concerned, he spoke gently, reaching out to him.

"Calm down."

"No, Trowa, no!" Quatre was almost yelling at him, his voice echoing in the empty street, off the buildings and through the broken windows. Trowa stared at him. Quatre was in rare form, breathing frantically, eyes wide.

"Listen to me!" The blond pilot said, holding his head in his hands. "I SAW it, and I could hear it but it wasn't talking Trowa! It wasn't saying a word!"

Trowa frowned. New types again. "What did it say?" He looked up at the awesome expanse of webbing. The black haired boy and his companion were gone, vanished with the attack. What had it hoped to ensnare? Two more hostages? Wasn't the entire city enough?

"They don't want the city." Quatre was panicked. "This isn't about any bureaucracy!"

"They?" Trowa asked, unsure.

"The bad ones!" Two hectic spots of red stood out on Quatre's pale cheeks.

He looked ready to run or cry, Trowa could not determine which. It was unsettling. His eyes suddenly flickered, Quatre's words ringing in his ears. Bad ones? He experienced a moment of realization. There were two forces at work here, one against the other. Fighting not over the city or the government, what was left?

"What do they want, Quatre?"

His face was solemn, his voice suddenly small and very scared.

"Everything."

Trowa lifted an eyebrow.

He shook his head. Quatre, who seemed to comprehend far more than he, was at the exploding point.

"We've got to help them!" He cried. "The other newtypes! We've got to!" Quatre tugged his arm, distracted and wild, his panic was disconcerting. Trowa had him by the shoulders, holding him there, almost shouting in an attempt to quiet him when a flash of light brought them both to a stunned silence.

They had returned.

More of them. This time, two garbed in blue armor of a dark and light hue accompanied the previous mechs. Trowa's gun was in his hand before he took another breath, placing himself between Quatre and the light-borne warriors.

"You came back!" Quatre exclaimed from behind Trowa's protective stance. He still trusted that no harm would befall them.

"Are you dudes alright?" The red one (possibly the leader) approached noisily in his metal bulk, letting his helmet dissolve, his face drawn in genuine concern. Trowa held his ground.

Quatre didn't answer, his breathing anxious.

"Ran into Dais, huh?" The unfamiliar one in dark blue armor spoke, a rough accent to his speech. His eyes, the same remarkable blue of his armor, were scanning Trowa, taking in the sticky matter on his clothes. "Met your buddies." It added wryly.

Trowa's hand tightened on the gun, ignoring the blue-haired mech's question. He took aim.

"Braid with a mouth and a deaf guy. Both heavily armed?" The armored figure wanted to know.

Quatre and Trowa looked at one another. The four mechs were regarding them suspiciously.

Trowa answered coolly, quickly acknowledging the first question. "Who is this Dais?" He clicked the safety of the gun but the mechs seemed unimpressed

"We haven't much time to explain!" One with a slightly British color to his voice spoke urgently. In his hand, he clutched a lethal looking trident, one that could very easily slice through a car, end a life in seconds. The one in red silenced him with a look, turning to Quatre and himself.

"Look, there's evil all around here." He explained curtly.

Far above them, the wind howled and a trickle of dust fell from one of the many concrete and steel skeletons. The strange clouds parted for a brief moment, the impossible apparition of the macabre palace there and then gone, hanging over them like magic.

"You've seen it for yourself." The mech's young voice was grave.

Trowa tore his gaze from the sky and back to the group.

"We're here to take care of them. You two had better find some place to lay low and stay there." He sounded like he meant it.

"How can we trust you?" Trowa's green eyes narrowed.

"We can!" Quatre insisted, his voice strained, but calming for the first time. "They want to help, Trowa."

Trowa did not lower his gun. Visibly exasperated and annoyingly unperturbed by the gun, the one in blue spoke impatiently, sidling up close to the one in red. Trowa's ears pricked, snatching their conversation.

"It's almost time! What're we mucking around for?"

Trowa's grip tightened on his firearm. Time. Time for what?

The one in red hissed back firmly."We'll find him."

A few more heated whispers passed between them. Finally, the one in blue threw Trowa a purposeful, almost amused look. "They can take care of themselves." He nodded cooly towards the gun aimed at his heart.

"We gotta go." The one in red looked fretful. "Haft find our friend."

"Or else kiss this joint goodbye." The broad-chested one in orange spoke up angrily. From behind him, Quatre let out a small gasp.

"You guys find someplace safe, got that?" The one in red addressed them firmly again. All four turned round as one and leapt as one into the twilight gloom of the city, vanishing into the tortured skyline.

Slowly, Trowa lowered his gun. With a long exhale, Quatre crumbled to his knees.

"Quatre!" Trowa was instantly beside him, concerned. Quatre's hand was clutched over his heart. He was shaking. What had they done to him?

"I'm fine." Quatre took a few deep breaths and righted himself, rising slowly to his feet again. Trowa offered him a hand but he pushed it aside, rubbing his own arm fretfully.

"I heard them, Trowa. Their thoughts. I don't know why."

Trowa stood calmly, unsure of what to say. Quatre spun around suddenly.

"They are here to help us, save us from this!" He gestured up to the destruction, the weblike matter shot through the remaining buildings, up towards the maniacal castle they had both seen hidden somewhere in the sky. Trowa opened his mouth but Quatre spoke on, ignorant.

"But one of them is missing. They cannot continue without him."

Trowa's head spun. Quatre's unique ability allowed him insight into other's emotions. That much he knew even if he did not completely understand. He also knew it was an extremely invasive talent and, at times, Quatre himself had only limited control over it. He was privy to the sacred, serene visions of other's contentment or the grotesque nightmares of their fear, the effects of which were nearly always drastic. What exactly had these beings done to him? And how had they managed to accomplish this being completely unaware, or so they claimed, of what a newtype even was?

"I don't know why Trowa, but I know they are on our side." He sounded awed.

Trowa=s mouth went dry. Had Quatre even realized he had just read his mind like he had spoken his fears out loud?

"They are not one bit like us, though. Of our world and yet, at the same time, not." He explained quietly, sounding unsure of himself. The moment was brief, however. He soon came back to himself, speaking with more confidence. "They share so much, I perceived that right away. They must fight together!"

"How did you know there were five?" Trowa asked.

Quatre averted his eyes.

"I saw him, Trowa. The fifth." Quatre's green-blue gaze met his swiftly. "He is in danger."

Trowa's response was cut short by the frantic high-pitched blipping of Quatre's comlink. Quatre snatched it from his pocket, frowning at the message.

"What is it?"

"It's the Professor." He answered, reading the rapid flash of summons.

Trowa checked his own dead link. Nothing. He snorted. Likely they would want Quatre at a time like this. Yet he had to wonder what efficacy their technology would have against the other world phenomenon.

"Let's go!" Quatre was already jogging across the broken asphalt. "It isn't far!"

Trowa checked his gun briefly. The professors were on the scene. He should have figured. Had they brought the Gundams as well? Whatever the case, Heero and Duo would likely be involved. He could only imagine, as he took off after Quatre, what Duo would have to say about all of this.

 

 

The place was elaborately thrown together. Not bad for a makeshift job in a disaster zone. But then the docs could probably make a fusion bomb out of paper clips and chewing gum. The thrum of electricity vibrated through the area. Bundles of wire and cable had been hastily duct taped around corners and along the ceilings passage. A styrofoam crate had been tipped on its side, spilling circuit boards across the floor. A row of monitors flashed and displayed columns of binary code. Buried in its hectic flashes was the technology that permitted the lab to run, for the lights to work, and for the weapons to remain inert, passive, in wait, in captivity.

It bothered Duo.

It wasn't much to get by the lab techs who were much more interested in their lap tops and miles of computer print out results. They barely glanced at his bar coded pass, the sight of its bright orange security warning was good enough.

This part of the lab was a little more sparse, and only a few doors lined the makeshift passage way. He passed the first door with a shudder. A small monitor showed the occupant within, still seated in the same spot and unmoving after so many hours. It had never weakened enough to restrain, and after violent attacks on anyone who attempted to enter it's cell, (and several unfortunate losses) it had been sealed away and left alone for now.

No matter. He was interested in a weapon, but not that one.

The door hissed open, and he had to shove it back to seal it again, slamming down the latch like a walk in freezer door.

It felt like a freezer in there. It was cold enough to see the faint traces of his breath, and he hugged his arms, glaring up at one of the close circuit cameras. "Little chilly don't ya think?"

A microphone clicked on and a calm woman's voice cut through the cold sterile room. "0 ° C is the temperature optimum for power transfer parameters."

"It's a mech not a semi conductor!" Duo growled. Power transfer. That was the source of the lab's power, and why the biomechs were so weak. New type technology. Hocus pocus. The technology Duo had depended on, it=s logic simple and straight forward was becoming a mystery. The lines between science and the unknown were blurring.

The table sat in the center of the room surrounded by machinery. A slow bleep recorded its heart beat, and the low white noise of the cerebral monitor sounded like a radio between stations. Sonographic internal data moved lethargically on tiny screens and Duo expected to see something more man made, more structuralized. Not malleable.

"We meet again." Duo said softly to the weapon that lay motionless on the shiny metal table. Its yellow hair covered one closed eye, its face slack as if in sleep. The pilot looked up with distaste at the nearest camera. "You don't mind if I make this private do you?"

He covertly clicked the audio off on the wall panel. "They won't notice for a few minutes." Duo explained to the inert form. "They are more interested in watching you."

The black fitted fiber optic suit covered its hands as well, and they were both firmly secured under two metal bands thicker than what would be required for any human being. They weren't taking any chances. "Can you hear me?" Duo whispered, feeling a little foolish. "If you can, you better listen up."

The weapon did not answer or show any sign that it was even alive. If the monitors that stood over it did not show otherwise, Duo would have been hard pressed to believe it.

"I gave your little marble thing to them." Duo crossed his arms. "They think they will be able to use it."

The doctors had already developed their equipment, the small orb had dimmed more and more since he had shown it to them. The light leaving it particle by particle. What would happen to it, Duo wondered, if it dimmed out completely?

The mech stirred weakly.

Its voice was faint but not feeble. "It won't work." It's eyes did not open and it was clearly in pain. Duo blinked.

"Huh?"

"....the consequences..."

Duo was quite interested in this matter.

"What consequences?"

Its eyes struggled open, and barely focused its ice blue gaze on him. But then they fluttered closed again. Duo wondered if there might be some malfunction with it.

He put a hand on its arm, the body under the wire rigged suit was colder than the air in the room. Duo shook it gently. "Freak? Hey, uh, thing?"

The door opened and two armed guards looked curtly around the room.

Duo straightened.

"We experienced an audio failure, is everything okay in here?"

"Yup." Duo clicked it back on. "I must have hit it by mistake."

Not buying a word, they glared at him as he walked between them.

_It won't work._ Confused as he was before he decided to seek the weapon out, Duo made his way back to the central lab. The empty corridors and drafty passages unseen in his concentration as he went.

 

 

Quatre looked pale. His footsteps were hurried as they wove their way in the darkness, past the oddities and frozen eyes staring blankly out at them. Trowa followed him at the agreed distance, aware they could be following his progress. The smaller pilot had calmed considerably, but he cast furtive looks around him as if he were hearing things Trowa could not. He himself had not been summoned and he did not know what to expect of them or what their plans were for Quatre. He would not place cruelty beyond the men who created the Gundams.

He gave Quatre his last two clips of ammunition.

"I'm all right, Trowa." He said as Trowa made to follow him. "I'll be back soon."

The blond pilot reached the dinosaur exhibit where the coordinates should have been. Quatre immediately spotted the gap in the floor, the underground hatch that lead to whatever headquarters the scientists had managed to conjure up. Quatre lifted the hatch with difficulty and lowered himself part way down the ladder.

The taller pilot said nothing from his hiding place as Quatre descended into the glaring light below.

He waited until Quatre was out of sight. Having no intention of staying well out of it, he followed.

 

 

The doctors were anxious, shifting from station to station, poring over printouts and spreadsheets.

"Duo, where have you been?" Dr. J was with Heero, explaining a long row of data. "We expect Winner at any moment."

"No luck this time huh Heero?" Duo half smiled at the disappointment to be read on Heero's face if one looked close enough. It seemed odd to him, however, that Heero wasn't going to be testing the new weapon. Heero could take bullets like splinters. What was a little supernatural phenomenon to him?

AWhy Quatre?@

Dr. S looked up from his clipboard. "You may be aware that Mr. Winner carries a gene we have only recently isolated as a mutation of the same one responsible for telekinesis."

Duo digested this carefully, scratching his head. More medical psychobabble? Or was it? "Quatre's a--"

"--newtype." Dr. J finished.

Duo whistled. Newtypes were just beginning to be understood by science. It seemed somehow right that Quatre was one, in the way he could read people, hurt when they did, feel things he didn't even know existed. The idea intrigued him.

It also scared him.

"You think Quatre can help you understand the mechs?" He asked. Dr. S nodded.

"We believe their abilities were developed by an unknown newtype specialist of an unknown faction. You have seen the levels of destruction these beings are capable of. You have also encountered their ability to defy gravity, move inanimate objects, communicate silently etc. These are all capabilities similar to those observed in advanced newtypes."

Dr. J flipped on a monitor and an image of the blonde weapon, lying motionless on the table, fuzzed into visibility.

"Basically, what we are trying to discover is if these weapons are natural, like Quatre, or artificial newtypes." He stroked his beard, his voice lowering. "We are receiving more and more data suggesting that they seem to be, indeed, human.

 

 

The subterranean lab was lit as bright as day in some places, dim to black in others. Trowa slipped through the shadows, and lurked back in doorways when he heard footsteps and the soft voices of technicians. Quatre moved through the maze without pause, absently flashing the pass he had been given when anyone bothered to take him any notice.

For all its secrecy, security seemed lax. Everyone was preoccupied and in an excited rush.

Trowa watched from behind a discarded and silent computer bank as Quatre was stopped by several lab personnel in their bio-hazard suits. Trowa's green eyes narrowed, watching them from the shadows. Bio-hazard suits? They were getting close.

Quatre was entering volatile territory. He watched the guards nod, watched them open the lock security to let Quatre in. Then the doors were closed.

 

 

"Furthermore," Dr. S added. "Since their motives are, as yet, undetermined, we must also attempt to yoke their abilities and make them useful to us."

Duo balked.

Heero's eyes flickered severely at him then and Duo, automatically, bit his tongue. The cold, gemlike gaze seemed to recall that these men were scientists ...and they did not care. In order to preserve humanity, they would detach themselves from it.

Heero was hard proof of this.

"We are not taking any chances!" Dr. G said, finally. "Would you rather be swallowed up like the rest of the city?" He spat.

Duo was about to respond unkindly when Master O interrupted.

"Gentlemen, Winner has arrived."

 

Closed doors meant little to him. Stealth was on his side. There was always more than one entrance to any classified area. All he need do was find it. Trusting the silence of his movements as he unscrewed the bolts from the vent duct, he crawled easily through the darkened heat until he heard the muffled hum of voices. Ahead, there were slated stripes of light shining in through an opening and Trowa hurried towards it on his stomach, careful not to draw attention, looking down from above at the blinking network of wires.

Quatre was seated, not so comfortably, surrounded by the five scientists, Duo and Heero. Trowa's eyes locked pensively on the two pilots. What did they have to do with all of this if no Gundams had been dispatched? Holding his breath, he settled into the three functions he was trained best for. Watch, wait and listen.

"We are very fortunate you were in the area, Mr. Winner." Dr. S handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee.

"An unlikely accident." Quatre took the cup. "Why have I been summoned?"

"To cut straight to the point, we have reached the stage in our research where a suitable test subject is in demand."

"Test subject?" Quatre frowned.

An uncomfortable sensation tugged at Trowa's stomach.

"We have managed to procure, with the help of Duo and Heero of course, one of the weapons who are playing an active role in the city's somewhat drastic transformation."

"What?!" Quatre's voice rose, the coffee spilling on the floor. The doctor's exchanged glances.

"We thought you might have that reaction." Dr. J flashed him a knowing forced smile. "You are ahead of the game, Winner. Your newtype skills have improved since our last encounter."

"That has nothing to do with it!" Quatre was almost shouting. "If you've got one of them, you have to set him free!"

"Perhaps you would like to see it?" Dr J offered.

Quatre nodded uncertainly and the group wandered away out of Trowa's line of sight.

Trowa frowned. They had one of these five held here. Quatre had been adamant about the importance of five. No further information was required. Backtracking the way he came, he surfaced once more near the lab door's entrance.

 

 

He dropped quietly onto the passage floor in a crouch and listened.

It was an easy matter to subdue a distracted lab tech and take the uniform and digitally encoded pass giving him computer access. He peeked inside, relieved to find the observation theater empty as a startled techie would be unfortunate to deal with. Rows of monitors lit the dim room. The closed circuit system location was quickly revealed on one of them.

What had Quatre meant about _everything_? The country, the world, the universe? Trowa walked swiftly down each dim and dark hallway, nodding to those to gave him any notice. It was absurd but something nagged at the back of his mind, saying that it might be close to that, that the span of his understanding fell woefully short of everything he had seen.

Help Quatre. Only that could he decipher.

He sat alone in the dark room flipping through the index of the closed circuit system, each cluttered room full of activity. The pass he had taken was short on access.

Trowa delved deeper into the system and hacked easily past the obstacle.

Then he found it.

He paused.

Quatre had only mentioned one. But there were two of them.

He brought up the surveillance cameras.

If demons walked the earth this was one of them. He magnified the image until he captured its face, and it looked up sharply as if it sensed him watching it. Thin eyes narrowed to slits, its bulky green armor was spiked at the shoulders. Its barely contained might was monstrous.

Bad ones.

Trowa accessed the other weapon, bisecting his computer screen with them both. It was without its armor, barely alive and so different. It was passing from waking to troubled sleep, its pale hair clinging to it's face despite the temperature Trowa read in the cell. It was young. Lost. And almost spent.

Their stats flashed by in an ordered neon column the anatomy labeled and explained.

Human beings, without the slightest trace of augmentation.

These were not cyborgs. Just like Quatre said.

Not knowing quite why, Trowa resolved to follow what everything told him was ridiculous. One thought of the look Quatre had in his eyes when he had tried to explain, and one moment to remember everything he had tried so hard to justify as something practical or at best legitimate, and Trowa stood.

He knew what he had to do.

Noting the corridor assignment and the quickly hacked security command codes, Trowa left as silently as he had come.

 

 

 

The monitor switched off. The weapon revealed in all of its subdued glory didn't do much to comfort Quatre.

Duo watched the blonde pilot's face as they described the procedure to him. It sounded simple enough, jump start the trigger with enough juice and blam, redirect it to the wearer.

Quatre.

The young pilot was not pleased. He looked very uneasy.

"Gentlemen, I do not doubt your intentions but I have...a distinct feeling that if we tamper with this, we will be meddling with something we can barely comprehend, let alone control."

He turned.

"I am sorry. I will not risk my life for this endeavor."

"Winner." Dr. S said, his smile leaving. "I'm afraid we do require your full cooperation."

A small metallic click brought the room to total silence.

Heero stood with his gun raised, safety off and leveled at Quatre's heart.

Dr J cleared his throat. "We insist."

The smaller pilot backed away from Heero looking forlornly towards the only exit. "Duo!" He said in despair. Lab assistants were already pulling his jacket from him, and fitting small electrodes to his temples. Quatre was about to rip them away when Heero pressed the firearm into his belly and slowly shook his head.

He was right. "Duo!" Quatre called out, his eyes pleading.

Duo, frowning at the method to the Doctors madness, looked to Quatre unwillingly. He crossed his arms. They were treating Quatre as nicely as they had treated the captured mech.

"What he said!" Quatre chest heaved and he winced when the shiny needle met his arm. They were leading him farther and deeper into the lab, where they had prepared the trigger. The small marble. The young pilot's eyes were slipping but he kept them locked on Duo, fighting with what little he had left to not be taken away, trying to thrash out of the grasp of those taking him.

"It won't!@

Duo went cold. Quatre's words ringing through him like a physical blow.

And then the heavy metal door slid shut sealing the lab techs and Quatre away to whatever waited on the other side.

to be concluded...


End file.
